


countdown

by norio



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6629647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norio/pseuds/norio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi once heard that if he kept calm and counted to ten, something good would surely happen. Bokuto heard the same thing, but he never bothered to keep calm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	countdown

**Ten**

The water bottle cap had been jammed inside. Even when Akaashi used his fingers, scrabbling against the soft plastic, the cap wouldn’t budge. He considered unscrewing the entire lid.

“Hey, first-year. I mean, hey, Akaashi. That was a good toss just now.” The loud second-year loomed above him. They had been on the same practice team for consecutive rounds, which was unusual unless someone had requested it. Akaashi still had trouble with the upperclassmen’s names, but Bokuto was different. The second-year celebrated every point like he had scored three. And he scored a lot of points. The constant “heys” had reverberated off the gym walls. But Bokuto was skilled and worked hard. Akaashi respected that, even if his ears still rang.

“It was a little high,” Akaashi said. The receive had been off, but he still could have set it lower. The block had fortunately been fumbling and Bokuto spiked the volleyball with ease. Bokuto had been too busy celebrating, but Akaashi knew the toss had been lacking. He dug his fingers into the water bottle cap.

“It’s easier if you use your teeth.” 

Akaashi furrowed his brow. It was impossible to set with his teeth, or at least without grievous injury. But Bokuto reached down and grabbed the water bottle, biting down on the cap and popping it up. Bokuto set the bottle down on the bench.

“Keep tossing to me, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi slowly drank from the bottle. Bokuto had gone to talk with the coach. 

For their first official match, Akaashi was chosen as the starting setter. 

**Nine**

“You’re wet.” 

The dark blue umbrella was talking. Bokuto tried to say something intelligent to the first ever talking umbrella, but the umbrella changed angles and he could see that first-year underneath. He was the new smart setter who worked hard at the game. Akaashi didn’t look surprised to find him underneath an empty bus stop. 

“It’s raining,” Bokuto said. 

“I can see that.” The gray sky stretched above them. The pelting rain drummed over the umbrella and the metal roof. In the shadow of his umbrella, Akaashi looked distant and uncaring.

“I wanted to get to practice early, but it started raining.”

“It’s been raining since last night.”

“I didn’t notice, okay! I was too excited to get to school! I just realized a block ago!” Bokuto covered his face with his hands. “I ran all the way here! Now I don’t know if I should run home or run to school! Did it just start raining harder?” 

It had. The rain poured down with a soft roar, pounding on the metal structure and thin umbrella. The puddles on the sidewalk rippled and distorted the reflection of the swaying green trees. 

“You should have brought an umbrella.” Akaashi turned and walked away. Bokuto frowned in thought. He could probably run to the nearest store and buy an umbrella, but the rain had grown all the more fierce. The closest stores were grocery chains. He wondered if they sold umbrellas by the produce section.

“Are you coming?” Akaashi interrupted his thoughts. He’d been waiting for him a little distance from the bus stop, umbrella tilted upward. Bokuto blinked, and then scrambled towards him. The umbrella was a little small, but Akaashi silently adjusted the height. The blowing rain still fell on Bokuto’s bag and sleeve, but he liked standing so close to Akaashi. He was warm and the clouds cast a nice glow on his face. 

“You’re a good guy, Akaashi.” 

“Your standards are too low.”

Akaashi was quiet. He carried out bold plays on the court, but he looked away now. Bokuto peered at him, interested. It apparently sparked some annoyance in Akaashi, who regained his composure and glanced back at him.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, “Your hair looks weird when it’s wet.”

**Eight**

The bus swayed in a gentle lull. The sun’s rays broke between the dark buildings on the horizon, flickering across the seats. Some buildings had turned on their lights, standing like towers of glittering stars. Akaashi, still mostly asleep, watched the tangerine luster play across the bus seat. His neck felt stiff and his shoulder heavy. His teammates slept in the seats surrounding him. Bokuto snored softly on his shoulder. 

Bokuto had insisted on the window seat, but he had fallen asleep first. His unzipped jacket had fallen open. Akaashi carefully pulled it closed for some thin semblance of warmth. Drowsy, he closed his eyes and rested against Bokuto to sleep once again.

**Seven**

“One more, Akaashi!” Bokuto grabbed the hem of his shirt, wiping the sweat off his face. “This would be better with some blockers. Hey, someone come over here and block!” 

“They all left.” Akaashi took another ball from the bin. He spun it around in his hands. The gymnasium had emptied out before Bokuto had noticed. They stood alone beside the net. Night had covered the school grounds outside the open door and darkness blocked the tall windows. Bokuto glanced at the clock. 

“Oh,” he said. “You can go home too, Akaashi.” 

“Are you done practicing your straights?”

“No!” Bokuto gripped his fists. Akaashi had tossed the balls perfectly, but his crosses kept getting blocked. It was frustrating and it made him burn hot inside. He wanted to practice more and more until they couldn’t touch his straights. He wanted to get better. 

“Then let’s continue.” Akaashi rolled the ball in his hands. “If you want to spike, then spike.” 

Akaashi hadn’t said much since the game, but his jaw was set. His eyes had solid determination, and he was only looking at Bokuto. In return, Bokuto grinned.

“I want 1000 more tosses, Akaashi!”

“That’s unlikely for tonight.”

**Six**

“How much do you want to bet?” 

Akaashi took another long drink from his water bottle, keeping an eye on his teammates. Their opponents had tenacious blockers, which had unsettled Bokuto. In the last game, Bokuto had been motivated by his sharp straight spike, which cut through any narrow openings without even touching the antenna. Bokuto was still good, but Akaashi thought a little motivation could help. He’d instructed them to the usual “hey, did you hear, a girl was saying Bokuto was really cool” tactic. For some reason, they had taken an aside amongst themselves before going to Bokuto. They finally approached him.

“Really!” Bokuto leapt up, fists raised. “Did that really happen!” 

Akaashi felt unsettled, eyebrow twitching. They’d done the routine enough for Bokuto to still be impressed, but not so surprised. Now Bokuto’s face lit up with an enormous smug grin, eyes fired up. He looked happy enough for the entire stadium. His teammates weren’t making eye contact, but the game was starting up again. 

Bokuto was energetic. He was too energetic, but Akaashi could use that to his advantage. When Bokuto was jumping for every toss like he was definitely going to spike it, the opponents believed him every time. He was transparent in their plays, too, grinning and laughing, encouraging his teammates by enthusiastically patting their backs. After every successful spike, he would turn to Akaashi expectantly. Every time Akaashi said it was a nice kill, Bokuto would start laughing and begin on a new round of self-congratulatory statements about how he was the best. He had too much power, too, and Akaashi feared for a net touch call. It didn’t happen, but his teammates did look distinctly guilty once the match ended and Bokuto was still loud and laughing with the manager. 

“What did you do,” Akaashi said. 

“What you told us to do,” Komi said. “Mostly. We told him, ‘Akaashi said you were playing a good game today.’ That’s it.”

Akaashi tried to feel more annoyed at Bokuto’s wide smile. Fortunately, the annoyance occurred naturally when Bokuto continued to jump around during the cool down and spent the rest of the day hanging off Akaashi’s shoulder.

**Five**

“I never do good at school uniform inspections,” Bokuto said, unwrapping his lunch. “Why do you think that happens?”

“You’re sloppy.” Akaashi chewed through his third onigiri. 

“Me?” Bokuto looked down at himself. “That’s not true!” 

“At least fix your collar.” Akaashi leaned over, straightening out Bokuto’s collar. He leaned over with his lunch still in his lap, so close that Bokuto could see the flutter of his eyelashes. Bokuto could feel Akaashi’s long fingers behind his neck, pinching along the fabric with strength and efficiency. His hands always ran a little cold. Akaashi pulled on Bokuto’s tie, adjusting it until Bokuto felt the soft weight against his neck. After another thought, Akaashi straightened out Bokuto’s jacket, tugging at the ends crisply and running his hands down the wrinkles. 

“Better now?” Akaashi asked, leaning back and taking up his food again. Bokuto could still feel where his hands had brushed across his chest. 

“Yes! Much! Better!” Bokuto’s shout startled Akaashi, whose mouth opened slightly. His glance swept across Bokuto’s red face, and he turned away, a new pink rising to his cheeks.

“That’s good,” he murmured. They ate the rest of their lunch in silence.

**Four**

“I definitely don’t get it,” Bokuto had declared. So Akaashi stayed late in the club room. He wrote down the missing information inside the captain’s notebook, preparing for the next meeting. Bokuto had scraped a metal chair across the room to sit next to him, arm against Akaashi’s shoulder. Akaashi wrote and Bokuto watched. 

The practice had been taxing, so Akaashi wasn’t surprised that Bokuto pulled out a protein bar. He often suspected Bokuto lived off meat and protein bars. The plastic wrapper proved too much for Bokuto at the late hour, and he slid it over the table. Finding a good place to stop, Akaashi placed down his pencil and tore open the wrapper. He broke off a piece and held it out. Bokuto leaned down to bite the piece, breath gentle over Akaashi’s fingers. Akaashi broke off a piece for himself, and then held out the remainder for Bokuto. He brushed off the crumbs from the notebook and tried to decipher Bokuto’s excited handwriting.

**Three**

According to Akaashi, Bokuto’s locker had crossed the base level of health and safety, even compared to the messy club room. They had identified the smelly culprit, abandoned moldy bread, near the top strata. Akaashi had stayed behind in hopes of reclaiming some of his missing items that had wandered into Bokuto’s possession. 

“I want to keep that!” Bokuto grabbed the lucky Akaashi pencil, recovered from the final exams layer. Akaashi happened to have an extra pencil that day, but Bokuto had passed his exams, so the pencil was obviously lucky. 

“I want that too,” Bokuto said, taking back Akaashi’s small pack of band-aids.

“This too.” He pulled on the nail file until Akaashi relinquished his hold with an exasperated look.

“So there’s nothing I can take back,” Akaashi said.

“You can have this!” Bokuto held out a small owl trinket, dangling from a keychain. The owl twisted and twirled in the air until Akaashi reluctantly opened his hand and Bokuto released the small owl into his palm.

“This isn’t mine,” Akaashi said. 

“It’s mine! Back in junior high, there was an arcade game on the way to school. I’d play it sometimes because I wanted that owl. And I got it!” Bokuto straightened up proudly. “It took me two years.” 

“Two years?” Akaashi examined the owl, rolling it around. “This isn’t worth two years.”

“Of course it is, Akaashi! It’s a great owl.”

“I’m going to throw it away.”

“It’s yours now! Do whatever you want with it.” His locker had become almost visible, so Bokuto decided it was enough. He arranged the small pile of Akaashi’s helpful objects on his top shelf and tossed some manga on the remaining mess. Something slid down in the locker. 

Akaashi finished clipping the owl trinket to his bag and waited for him by the door.

**Two**

“Dibs on the spot next to Akaashi!” Bokuto rushed to spread out his futon next to Akaashi’s. The night of the training camp was passing peacefully, so Akaashi didn’t object.

“Because I’m the only one who can sleep through your snoring?” Akaashi asked, already perusing the captain’s notebook. 

“Do I need a reason like that to sleep next to you?” Bokuto’s eyebrows quirked upwards. He was earnest and waiting. Akaashi twisted the mechanical pencil between his fingers, considering the question.

“No,” he said. “Come here, you need to review a few things.” Bokuto gladly climbed onto his futon.

**One**

“So what’s your type?” The back of the volleyball magazine had an advertisement for a new idol group, which had sparked the conversation. Bokuto held the picture up in the air, letting the light permeate through the thin back cover.

“I don’t know!” he declared boldly. 

“What kind of personality do you like?”

“Someone like Akaashi, I guess.” 

“Oh, like patient?” Konoha asked.

“I guess. But it’s more than that. It’s like.” Bokuto closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. “It’s like, Akaashi.”

“Smart?”

“It’s more than that! It’s Akaashi, you know?” Bokuto crossed his arms in front of his chest, still thinking. “It has to be someone who’s a lot like Akaashi.” 

“So if someone was a setter and smart and patient enough to deal with you?”

“That’s not enough! It has to be more like Akaashi.” 

“So you like Akaashi,” Konoha said, smiling. The smile dropped from his face when a locker softly shut behind him. Akaashi smoothed down the front of his jacket, not looking at them. A gentle silence had fallen around the room, but Bokuto couldn’t figure out why. It was only Akaashi, after all. Bokuto walked until he stood in front of him.

“Hey, Akaashi,” Bokuto said. “Do I like you?”

Akaashi wasn’t looking at him. He twisted his fingers together, weaving them together and gripping his knuckles. 

“Yes,” he said softly. “You do.”

“Oh.” Bokuto considered this. A lot of things made a lot more sense to him. He felt relieved and a little proud of himself. Of course he would like someone like Akaashi. After all, Akaashi was the best.

“Right! Let’s go out, Akaashi!” Bokuto pointed to himself. “You can date someone great like me!” 

“You haven’t asked if I liked you,” Akaashi said. 

“But you do, don’t you?” Bokuto had never questioned this. Akaashi sighed, finally placing his hands on his hips and looking him straight in the eye. 

“Yes,” Akaashi said. “I do.” 

“Then let’s go out!” Bokuto pointed to himself again.

“All right,” Akaashi said. “Get ready for practice already.” 

Bokuto grinned. When he turned around, his teammates were staring at him. They were probably emboldened by the cool way he asked Akaashi out. Practice went even better than usual, since Bokuto felt good about spiking off Akaashi's tosses. They stayed late as always and walked home together through the scattering of the evening crowd. Akaashi would twist his fingers in his hands or slide his palm underneath the strap of his bag. Their footsteps were soft on the sidewalk. When they passed by an open store, Bokuto could see the red tinge on Akaashi’s ears. He liked Akaashi. 

When they stopped at the crossway where they usually split up, Bokuto wanted to kiss him. Akaashi brushed his fingers across Bokuto’s sleeve, leaning forward and closing his eyes. So Bokuto kissed him. 

It was nice. Akaashi’s mouth was soft, and he kissed back with ferocity. When he pulled back, his face was red. Bokuto felt his heart beating against his ribs, shaking him throughout his body. He grinned at Akaashi, and the warmth spread over his face. His ears burned even in the cool night air. 

“So no teeth this time,” Akaashi said. 

“What?”

But Akaashi only smiled and grabbed his tie for another kiss.


End file.
